Hope & Love
by battleships
Summary: We were friends, best friends. There was nothing we couldn't tell each other, but naturally I had to go and fall in love with him. DMHG
1. Chapter 1: The Start

Chapter One: The Start

 _Disclaimer: I do not own these characters._

As a muggle born, I am thought to be less smart than the average student. I had no knowledge of the wizarding world beforehand, and when I first received my Hogwarts letter, I almost didn't believe it. It seemed to be fake, for magic doesn't exist to muggles, but to me, anything is possible.

I hugged myself tighter and shivered as the cool fall air whipped around me. The wind was starting to get frantic as it viciously attacked people's hats, coats, and kissed their lips. I couldn't wait. I have finally gotten out of my stuffy private school filled with girls who are only there because of their family's money, and could remember soley makeup facts and not a single maths equation. As an only child, I was left to fend myself off from mean girls who had it out for me since day one. Over time, I learned how to bottle up emotions, and always seem happy and pleased, never sad. I wish I could say I've experienced rejection in my life, but I have always worked so hard that failure is rare. I'm sure it can't be that bad.

I walk to the platform alone. After taking me on a very confusing journey through a place called Hogsmeade, my parents dropped me off and then went into their office. They saw this Hogwarts as a new boarding school and thought nothing of it. I look at my ticket, it says _Platform 9 ¾_. Odd, but I'm not discouraged. I find platforms 9 and 10, and see a wall where ¾ would be. I knock on the wall and press on it but I don't feel anything abnormal. I then see a boy about my age with pale-blonde hair. It was a striking color, but the boy who it lay upon seemed to be a good match for it. He seemed a contemplating type, not a very outgoing person but once he spoke he was confident. He stood up straight and understood what was going around him, never looking confused. He was with his father, same hair and demeanor. They stood about three meters from the wall, stood a few strides forward and disappeared.

Interesting, I thought. You must be deliberately running at the wall to go through, which makes sense because then people couldn't accidentally go through who weren't supposed to. I shook my head at the world of magic and braced myself for a possible humiliating moment. I ran straight through the wall, and ran out onto a new station, with people of all looks. Funny, in the muggle world, people are divided by what they look like, here, it seems to be a more class-based system. I could see, in one area, people with tattered robes and books with clear seams on the bindings to indicate that they were already used. In other places, people with robes that fit them perfectly, and beautiful animals, which are apparently necessary. I got a cat. I was debating between a cat and an owl, but the cat seemed better in case I needed someone for comfort. I named her Calypso _[Ka-LIP-so],_ after the nymph in Greek Mythology who was trapped on the island Ogygia. I saw many sleek owls and cats, and over the sea of colors in this crowd, I saw the blonde hair again. He was definitely my age, I could tell by the almost perfectly concealed wonder on his face. As the train rolled to a stop, he boarded and took a seat by the window facing the platform. I decided this was someone I should get to know, so I boarded the train, patted my ponytail to make sure it was still perfectly intact, and went into the compartment where he sat.

"Hi!" I said giving him a warm smile, "my name is Hermione, and I was wondering if I could sit here for the train ride". He glanced up, shrugged, and then went back to staring out the window. Naturally, I took this as a yes. I placed my luggage down and sat across from him.

He looked at me, briefly so that it wasn't awkward but long enough for him to be able to recognize me if he saw me in a crowd.

"Draco Malfoy,"

I shook his extended hand. His pale skin was misleading, his hands were warm. They were thin but they were delicate in the way a pianist's fingers may be delicate, not breakable but nimble enough to be able to leap from key to key.

"Hermione Granger"

This was a boy who knew what he was doing in the world, and I had no interest in screwing up my own reputation. Not yet, anyway.

 _Thank you! Sorry that it was a bit on the short side, I'll try to do longer in the future._

 _With love,_

 _battleships_


	2. Chapter 2: Sorting

**Chapter Two: Sorting**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own these characters._

The train ride was awkward, to say the least. I opened a book to try to distract myself, _Hogwarts: A History_ of course, but every so often I would catch myself looking at him.

He had a unique face, his chin was narrow, but his cheekbones were defined just enough so that his face widened a bit just below his temple. His hair was impeccable, but not perfect. It was the perfect length and color, no sign of any darker roots or dyes, but it fell in such a natural way that it makes him seem fun. He was handsome, but I didn't know him enough to judge his personality. He was looking out the window, and I could see his eyes jumping from thing to thing as he watched them pass him.

I decided to ask. "Which house do you think you will be in?"

He looked at me with a sense of confusion, as if I had just asked a stupid question. Which, judging by his answer, I had.

"Slytherin. Every member of my family was in Slytherin, and I know I will be too."

Malfoy. I knew that name was familiar. I had done a bit of research on the magic world. I had read about the Sacred 28, the families that were deemed by Salazar Slytherin himself the "purebloods". The Malfoys were at the top of the list because of their wealth and status. They are all loyal followers of the man known to the wizarding world as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and each and every one of them were Slytherins at Hogwarts.

As a muggleborn, I knew he would automatically hate me, so I decided to not to tell him that. Going into this school alone would be a nightmare, so having at least one friendly face, even a not friendly one would be good.

I responded to his answer. "Good, Slytherin is what I would like to be in as well." It wasn't exactly a lie, Slytherins were ambitious. I may not enjoy lying and hurting others, but I wasn't the smartest girl in my school for years to be sorted into a house for _loyalty._ I guess Ravenclaw was an option, but nobody will go far in life if you're just smart. You need to have connections and as terrible as it seems, that's what Slytherin is going to give me.

I could tell by the suspicious look on his face that he didn't believe me, but I guess we would just have to wait and see.

We finally arrived at the train station, and I grabbed my luggage. "Hope you get into Slytherin Draco!" I said with a smile. Using his first name was definitely a power move by me, but despite his surprise, he gave me a small smile and a nod. I went on my way onto a way too small boat with some boy with messy jet black hair and a redhead who couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the boy with black hair.

The great hall is massive. I'd like to consider myself an athletic person, but if I had to run up and down the hall more than once I think I would pass out. There are four tables, each one filled with watching, judging eyes of people who have already been sorted. This process seems strange. You place a talking inanimate object on your head and it tells you what kind of person you are, and who you should be friends with. I wonder how do they do this? Was a spell cast on the hat, or was it some form of Transfiguration? I'm not sure, but it's strange.

I step up to the stool, which seems way too worn down to hold even the lightest person. I sit down and the hat gets placed over my head. I suddenly have a slight headache, but I can tell that it's just the hat picking through my head. I'm surprised how normal that sentence was to me. The hat laughs loudly, and I immediately cringe, thinking that the entire hall can hear me, when it's really just in my head.

 _Interesting_ , it says. _I've never seen a muggleborn_ wanting _to go into Slytherin. I wonder why, maybe it's that Malfoy boy. Oh yes, I see a good thing happening there. You'll have to face choices, but I'm sure you'll know what to do. Yes that's a good fit. Ravenclaw could work, but that's boring, so_

SLYTHERIN! It shouts to the hall. I get up and straighten my back. This is the start of my new school, and I'm going to make a good impression. I walk over to the Slytherin table and sit down, and with a small smile I acknowledge the presence of the other first-years. There's a girl with jet black hair across from me. She seems cocky, but maybe she's just faking it like I'm sure the rest of us are. On her right are two boys who, judging by their blank stares and fascination with the food, seem to have the intellectual capacity of a fruit fly. Most likely a Crabbe and a Goyle, and the girl is a Parkinson. Most Sacred 28 families have some sort of feature that makes them easy to identify. The Parkinsons have jet black hair and a small nose with round cheeks. The Crabbes and Goyles are heavier, but Crabbes are typically taller whereas the Goyles are shorter. The Malfoys have their pale hair, and the Weasleys have red hair and freckles. The boy on the boat must have been their youngest, Ronald, I believe. What an unfortunate name Ronald is, hopefully he goes by Ron or something. If the boy is Ronald, then the boy with the black hair must be

"HARRY POTTER", the Sorting Hat calls out, and the boy with the black hair trudges forward. He seems so confused by the world, but then again if I had to live with muggles who hate magic, I would be confused too. At least my parents don't care. For all they know, Hogwarts is just a fun name to get kids to go to it. But the legend of Harry Potter was not easy to miss during my research.

The boy was sought out by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and both of his parents were killed by him, but somehow after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cast the killing curse, it rebounded and destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. All Slytherins hate Potter, of course, but the rest of the school loves him.

As if it was any surprise, Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor. I ignored the rest of the student until I heard a familiar name.

"DRACO MALFOY" Shouts the Sorting Hat. The second the hat touches his head it cries out "SLYTHERIN". Draco visibly relaxed and walked over to the table and sat in between Crabbe and Goyle. He looks up at me and for a second he seems, glad? He gave a nod of acknowledgement to me and turned to the Parkinson girl. Pansy is her name.


End file.
